


a cat's the only cat who knows where it's at

by Caracalliope



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F, First Time, Future Fic, Power Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 14:12:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17684981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caracalliope/pseuds/Caracalliope
Summary: Adora had certain expectations.





	a cat's the only cat who knows where it's at

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Measured_Words](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Measured_Words/gifts).



Adora had certain expectations about how she was going to take Catra’s virginity.

She wouldn’t call it _that_ to Catra’s face, or even call it anything at all. Back home - back at the Horde - it was simply called fraternization. It was one of those things that could get you in trouble, but only if you were on someone’s bad side. So yeah, back then, Adora had it all figured out: she and Catra would hang out, and kiss, and then do things - she wasn't sure what things, but she figured it couldn’t be too complicated - and then someone would walk in on them, probably someone who had beef with Catra, and then they’d both get humiliating public demerits. And it would be worth it.

Now that she’s free, those specifics melted away. But on the bright side, Adora got to do some research - or, well, she raided Mermista’s bookshelf. Once she filtered out the books with pirates, and the art with tentacles, she was still left with valuable intel. Catra’s first time was going to be so, fucking, tender. Adora was going to hold her wrists - not like a tentacle would - but nicely, teasingly, and Catra was going to relax, the way she sometimes did when no one was looking. And then, then Adora was going to rise like the tide, rock against her in waves, and explore her depths.

It all made sense!

She should have known Catra would never stick to the plan.

“Bet you’ve thought about this,” Catra whispered, her sandpaper tongue scraping Adora’s cheek. Adora was backed up against a tree, with Catra’s claws pressed lightly against her chest. “I’m right, aren’t I? It’s what you think about, when you touch yourself.”

“Well, not on the battlefield,” Adora said, and it came out sounding unsteady. “What’s wrong with a bed? You sleep on beds now. I’ve seen it. I have even seen you fall asleep on Bow's bed, which is like the softest heart-shaped mattress science or magic could ever make.”

Catra frowned, her claws pressing in a little more insistently. Was she going to draw blood? No, her tail was curling, she wasn’t really mad.

“ _You_ are a choosy spoiled princess,” she said, with a deep purr under the word ‘princess’. “You’re the one who got us here, remember?” She gestured at the burned field, the clutter of dropped weapons.

“I remember,” Adora agreed, because Catra stepped closer, nose nearly in kissing distance.

“You chose the battlefield. You chose the time it would all go down. You even,” she stepped closer again, “chose the side we’d both be on. Princess.” Catra moved her claw-tips lower, scraping them down Adora’s stained white shirt. Pressed them against the muscles of her abdomen.

“I remember,” Adora said again, and she always would. The shock when Catra left everything behind, to fight by her side. The helpless, burning gratitude.

“So why not let me choose the rest?”

Adora thought about it. She thought about it as hard as possible, with Catra's tongue so pointy and deliberately poking out from the corner of her smirk.

“Okay,” she said at last.

“Okay?” The faintest note of uncertainty entered Catra's voice, and that was the boost Adora needed.

Now that Catra was hers, irrevocably on her side after everything, it wasn't that hard to trust her.

“You're leading this mission, Commander,” Adora said, and slumped against the tree. Closed her eyes, bared her neck. “Please be nice to me.”

She couldn't see Catra's reaction but she could feel it. The claws, pricking her stomach and then retracting. Catra's hand sliding further down.


End file.
